


Can't Fight the Friction

by burntotears



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, GTA AU, Humor, M/M, Tension, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-31 02:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3960637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burntotears/pseuds/burntotears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone is afraid of Ryan because he doesn't talk much outside of jobs and is (undeniably) a little insane, but Michael is fed up with his shit. It's too bad that's not the biggest problem he has to deal with right now.  </p><p>When exactly did Ryan become the most dependable member of his crew again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Can't Take the Pressure

Michael was fuming as he rushed up to Ryan and pushed hard on the other man’s chest, only rocking the taller man back on his heels for a moment before he stood straight again. “What the fuck was _that_?”

“What?” Ryan replied innocently, a condescending arrogant lilt in his voice.

“Fuck you, Haywood. You went off book; you nearly got Gavin killed!” Michael screamed, arms flailing every which way, only vaguely referencing the other man who was standing next to them. The whole crew was watching the exchange, frozen, waiting to see Ryan’s reaction. No one screamed at Ryan - it just wasn’t _done_.

Gavin made a weird wheezing sound at being brought into the ‘conversation’. “Michael, I’m fi-”

“Shut the fuck up, Gavin,” Michael replied harshly, not even sparing his friend a glance. His gaze was boring harshly into the eyeholes of Ryan’s ridiculous mask, wishing he could smack it right off his smug fucking face. 

“I’m tired of this shit. Ever since you got here you’ve slowly been doing more and more of whatever the fuck you want on these jobs and nobody fucking says a word because ‘ _ooooh Ryan’s so scary, Ryan’s the wildcard, Ryan gets it done_ ’ - well fuck that and _fuck you_. We don’t fucking plan for days for this shit because it’s _fun_ , we do it so we fucking survive and the job gets done and it gets done _right_.”

Ryan didn’t say a word, he just kept staring Michael down with his clear blue eyes and Michael seemed to have run out of steam. He looked over at the others for any kind of support.

“Well, I mean - the job did get done, Michael…” Ray offered lamely.

“We got the money,” Jack supplied.

“Are you fuc - what the fuck? Nevermind, I’m outta here. Fuck you guys.” Michael turned on his heels and jumped in his car, peeling out and leaving them all with their stupidity.

 

“Hey!” 

Michael almost jumped out of his chair, but he recovered quickly, shuffling the papers on his desk and jumping up to face the assailant. “What do you want?” Michael sneered when Ryan bounded up to him, all lean muscle and a quiet fury in his blue eyes. Without his mask or the facepaint, Ryan was far more intimidating - not that Michael would ever admit that.

He stopped inches away from Michael, pressing a hard finger into the younger man’s chest. “I hear you’ve been checking up on me.”

“Maybe I have,” Michael replied, trying his best to keep his cool. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that Ryan was dangerous and without the mask it was like he was seeing the _real_ man himself and maybe that was worse. Maybe finding out who Ryan really was would only get him killed, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself once he’d started. He’d almost become obsessed with the idea of knowing who Ryan really was over the past couple of weeks; it was nearly all he’d done.

“Why?” Ryan backed off, but not by much. Michael could still feel his breath on his face and see strands of his dark blond hair pulling out of the ponytail at the back of his head and brushing the sides of his neck and face.

“Because I’ve got a big, _lesbian_ crush on you,” Michael shot back sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “What the fuck do you think? I don’t fucking trust you and we don’t know fuck-all about you.”

Ryan rolled his eyes as well. “You don’t want to know anything about me.”

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because you won’t like what you find out,” Ryan replied flatly.

For some reason, Michael’s heart picked up at that, but he didn’t let it show on his face. “ _Please_. We’re all fucking criminals, dude, it’s not like you could surprise me at this point.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ryan deadpanned.

Michael raised an eyebrow for a moment before cracking a reluctant smile at the stupid joke. There was a hint of a smile on Ryan’s face and the tension in the room dissipated instantly. But the smile was gone as quickly as it came and the rigidness in the man’s shoulders returned, making Michael uncomfortable again.

“How long have you known the rest of them?” Ryan asked.

“What?” 

“I’m asking how well you know them.”

Michael couldn’t figure out where Ryan was going with this. “Why?”

Ryan was nearly at the front door. When had he gotten so far away? “I’m just saying - just because they tell you shit about themselves and say they are your friends doesn’t mean you can trust them, is all.”

“Yeah, well what the fuck do you know?” Michael yelled after him, but Ryan was already gone.

 

Ryan’s stupid fucking comment had made him question everything about his crew since the beginning of time. Sure, he’d never trusted Ryan from the start, but who else had he not trusted when they’d joined? Not a single fucking person, because no one else acted like Ryan did. Everyone else had been totally upfront about their past, their indiscretions, their quirks and personalities… he _knew_ all of them.

Right?

Everyone else had been vouched for by someone else on the crew which made it easy for Michael to trust them because he already trusted the rest of the crew, but Ryan…

 _Michael_ had found Ryan. It had been Michael that had recommended him because he’d run into him on a solo job a few years back. The two had worked together to get out of a shitty situation and after that Michael just couldn’t get the dark brooding figure out of his head. He just figured it was because he was a threat and it was easier to have him _inside_ where he could be watched than outside where he could fuck something up for them.

Everyone else was content to just stay out of Ryan’s way because he kept his shit in order and got the job done that first year or so, but he always grated on Michael’s nerves in some way or another and _then_ he started doing whatever the hell he deemed necessary to finish things whether it was planned or not. The crew stayed quiet, but Michael kept commenting and bitching and Ryan was smug as ever until he blew up at him a few weeks ago.

Aside from Ryan, though, he got along with everyone else. Gavin was practically his best friend, a brother even, and Ray wasn’t too far behind. Even though Geoff planned all their heists and was essentially the leader, he was completely laid back and fun to hang with. Jack had always been down for anything, the first woman they had on the crew before Lindsay had joined them a while after. Lindsay was fun, they always had a good time with her and Kerry too, though he didn’t do as many jobs with them because he was a legitimate businessman or some shit. To round it out they had brought on Jeremy and Matt not too long ago and though they were pretty wet behind the ears, they pulled their own weight well enough and they weren’t too bad once Michael had hung out with them a few times.

The biggest difference between all of them and Ryan was that Michael actually considered them to be his _friends_. They actually hung out, smoked weed, played video games and got drunk while watching Game of Thrones. It wasn’t just ‘do the job, see you in a month’ with them. How could he doubt them when Ryan had to be the shadiest motherfucker of all of them?

Yet here he was, watching everyone all the time now, wondering if they were plotting or scheming behind his back like some paranoid narcissist. All he thought about was who was out to get him and why. It got to the point where no one wanted to hang out with him anymore because he was being even more of an asshole than usual and it pissed him off, but how could he blame them?

“What the fuck did you _do_ to me, asshole?” Michael raged one night, drunk off his ass as he stormed into one of Ryan’s safehouses.

Ryan had a gun pointed at him before he realized who it was and slowly lowered it, eyes accusatory. “What are you talking about, Michael? How’d you even get in here?”

“Fucking _alohomora_ , dickbag. Now answer my question.” Michael swayed to the side and had to catch himself on the sofa next to him.

“You’re drunk,” Ryan supplied unhelpfully.

Michael huffed as his thoughts moved sluggishly through his head and Ryan’s stupid answers weren’t helping. “And you’re a goddamn genius, no wonder everyone loves you.”

“They don’t?” Ryan said in confusion.

“Exactly. Why can’t I stop worrying that one of my friends is gonna shoot me in the fucking back now? Ever since you opened your big mouth all I can see is fucking betrayal and it’s driving me fucking crazy. What did you fucking do?” Michael had walked up until he was inches in front of Ryan, staring him down with foggy eyes.

“I told you the truth. I’m glad you started to think for yourself.”

“What - what does that even _mean_?” Michael backed up, waving his hands in agitation. “Who the fuck are you to question everyone’s integrity when we - don’t - even - know - _you_.” 

“Just because you think you know them, doesn’t mean you do, Michael. I don’t want you to fall into that trap. It’s an easy thing to do.” Ryan ran a hand through his hair and mussed it up.

Michael wheeled around, pointing a finger at him. “Are you going and telling everyone this so we all turn on each other? Is this some kind of sick game to you?”

“I haven’t spoken to anyone but you, Michael,” Ryan replied rather quietly, leaning against the edge of the sofa with his arms crossed over his chest, eying the other intently.

“Fucking _why_? Why me?” Michael practically pleaded. He felt like a helpless child, like he was losing his goddamn mind and somehow Ryan was the only one with the answers that would mend it.

“Because I trust you.”

 

Michael woke up with the worst hangover of all time and he didn’t have a fucking clue where he was. He groaned and rolled over and nearly landed face first on the floor which made him curse and sputter as he pushed himself back with his foot to keep from eating the carpet. “Wha-?”

“Want some aspirin?”

“I want a fucking drink,” Michael replied, but he sat up slowly, taking in the room. It was surprisingly dark and Ryan was in sweatpants and a wifebeater while Michael was nearly fully dressed besides his jacket and his shoes. “What time s’it?” He asked, taking the water and pills that Ryan offered him anyway.

“Like five? You slept for a while, but you kept twitching and shit,” Ryan explained, then his face turned red. “I-I wasn’t watching you, you were just really loud.”

Michael waved his hand dismissively and set the glass on the coffee table. “You let me crash here.”

“I told you that I trust you.”

“Not enough to give me the bed, apparently,” Michael scoffed.

“Well, let’s not get crazy. I hardly know you,” Ryan smiled and Michael laughed before grimacing.

“Ow. Don’t do that.”

“Sorry.”

Michael leaned back into the sofa, quiet for a few minutes as his head thumped painfully. He tilted his head to the side to look at Ryan. “Do you really think someone is going to fuck us over?”

“I have my suspicions, but I’m not going to fucking gossip with you, Michael. I don’t have any proof, it’s just intuition.” He was tracing his fingers back and forth, looking forward and then over at Michael for some kind of response, but nothing came for a while.

Michael didn’t know what to think. “I don’t understand you. How can you trust me when you don’t know anything about me?”

“I wouldn’t say I don’t know _anything_ ,” Ryan said slowly.

“You know what I mean. You’ve heard me talking to the others, but it’s not like we’ve sat down and had an honest fucking conversation with each other. Why the hell would you trust me? And why not anyone else? It isn’t like I’m the easiest piece of shit in the world to get along with.”

Ryan sighed and leaned back into the couch, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, it’s the same as with you guys and me, right? You don’t know my mom’s name or who I struck out with in high school, but you know how I am, how I act, stuff like that. Who I am. I know who you are. Just because I don’t know your favorite video game-”

“Zelda,” Michael interjected easily.

“-or your favorite cartoon-”

“ _Obviously_ My Little Pony, I mean, what else?” 

Ryan gave him a look to tell him to shut up. “The point is, just because I can’t rattle off all those facts about you doesn’t mean I don’t know your personality. You’re observant, you care about people, you trust people-” 

Michael raised his eyebrow at that.

“Okay, when they give you a reason to. People depend on you because they know you’ll have their backs even when they fuck up. Like I know even when I don’t follow the plan, you aren’t gonna let me die out there if you can help it. It’s not the type of person you are, regardless of how loud you can scream and how many ‘fucks’ you can throw out. People like you because they know that you’re gonna look out for them even when you’re ribbing the shit out of them.” Ryan shrugged, looking back at the blank TV screen in front of him rather than at Michael, who was sort of gaping at him.

“How the hell have you noticed all of that about me?” he finally managed after what felt like ages.

Ryan gave him an incredulous look. “We’ve been working together for two years, man.”

“I know, but… you don’t even… you don’t spend any time with us like… like _ever_.” Michael felt blindsided, like Ryan had been secretly gaining intel on him without his knowledge.

“Are you saying you know absolutely nothing about me after two years?” Ryan asked.

“No! I don’t! You’re a smarmy, sarcastic asshole that is intelligent as shit but thinks that because of that he knows better than everyone else and can go and do whatever the fuck he wants because it’ll work out just fine in the end just because it has every other damn time!” Michael was completely flustered and was so annoyed by this conversation that he didn’t even realize what he was saying until Ryan was smirking at him. “ _What_?”

“You do realize you just named a bunch of shit about me, right?”

“I didn - oh. Oh. Yeah, I guess I did. Huh. Okay.” Michael grunted. “So you admit that you think you’re smarter than everyone else!”

“If the shoe fits…” Ryan grinned.

“You dick.”

 

Geoff finally had another heist ready for them and it was huge. They were planning for weeks, getting cars and uniforms that they needed access to so that by the time they had all the prep work done, Michael had hardly had any time to think about his weird conversations with Ryan or his sudden paranoia about his crewmates. Which was better for the job anyway, seeing as he needed to be focused if he wanted to pull it off right.

He couldn’t miss the unease in Ryan’s shoulders the day before things were going down, though, or the way everyone seemed on edge. Sure, it was always stressful, but something just didn’t feel right and Michael was beginning to wonder if Ryan had been right. Someone had his finger on the trigger, ready to take more than his cut when this was all over and fuck whoever got in the way.

Before comms went live the next day, Ryan pulled him aside, his face already painted and mask in hand. “Don’t trust anyone,” he said in a low voice near Michael’s ear.

“What about you?” he shot back.

Ryan’s eyes looked pleading. “I know you don’t trust me, Michael, but something doesn’t feel right and I don’t want-”

Michael put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “At this point, you might be the only one I _can_ trust, dude.”

Ryan locked eyes with Michael, surprise and gratitude in his features. 

“Just be careful, okay?” Michael said. “I got your back.” He smirked, letting his sunglasses fall over his eyes as he hoisted his gun over his shoulder and went to his position to wait for the inevitable.

 

The inevitable turned out to be Geoff. It hurt, Michael couldn’t deny it, but it was also nice to have it out in the open now, to no longer be wondering. When the money had been pulled, Michael found himself face to face with the end of Geoff’s pistol, telling him to hand it all over.

“It’s been years, Geoff. Why now?” Michael asked, unable to hide the hurt.

Geoff faltered but didn’t drop his gun. “Sorry, buddy, but the money was too good this time. With this I can retire and get the fuck out of this city and never look back. It’s not personal, Michael, I just want out.”

“It’s not personal? You’ve got a gun pointed at my head, Geoff, I’d say it’s pretty fucking personal right now.” Geoff had taken Michael’s comm and broken it so he had no way to contact anyone else - he didn’t even know if Geoff was working alone.

“Michael, I don’t wanna shoot you; you’re a good guy. But I’m walking out of here with that money. Either you give it to me willingly or we’re gonna do this the hard way.” His face twitched. “Let’s just keep it simple and you hand it over real slow now.”

Fuck. He should just hand it over, he knew that was the smart thing to do. His life wasn’t worth some fucking cash, but he was an idiot and he felt like he had something to prove. To himself, to his crew, to _Ryan_... “You know I can’t do that, Geoff,” he finally replied, lifting his own gun level with his crewmate’s.

“Don’t be fucking stupid, Michael,” Geoff said, getting angry now. “You’re the reasonable one, why do you think I put you on the money grab? You want everyone to come out of this alive, including yourself, so just hand it the fuck over and walk away and everything will be fine.”

“Will it though?” Michael prodded on, knowing he was walking a dangerous line, giving Geoff more reason to just shoot him, but he couldn’t stop now that he’d started. “You’ll have all our money and we’ll be in the hole for the prep, plus the emotional damage it’s going to cause when everyone finds out you’re a fucking dickbag lying traitor.”

“Dammit, Michael!” Geoff screamed and suddenly pain was blooming from his shoulder and he cried out, only now seeing Ryan. Geoff had tried to shoot him but Ryan had knocked him to the side with the butt of his gun so that the bullet dug into the meat of Michael’s shoulder instead.

“Wha - where the hell did you come from?” Michael asked, cradling his shoulder as he watched Ryan shoot Geoff in the calf and run over to him. 

“You okay?”

“Could’ve been worse,” Michael gritted out.

“We gotta go. I’m not sure he’s working alone,” Ryan said, shouldering Michael’s weight and walking as quickly as possible down the tunnel away from Geoff who was groaning behind them.

“Really? He sounded like he was. Shit. He was gonna kill me,” Michael said, his heart pounding now as the realization that his so-called friend had just tried to shoot him in the damn forehead.

“I wouldn’t take it too personally. Money turns people into assholes, even toward their friends.” Ryan was actually trying to console him.

“Dude, seriously? Stop lying to me. Geoff was always going to fuck us over, he never thought twice about it. I could see it in his eyes.” Michael tried to look sideways at Ryan. “And you knew.”

“I suspected,” Ryan corrected him, taking a side tunnel and then another, trying his best to get them as deep as he could so they wouldn’t be followed.

“And who do you _suspect_ is probably working with him?” Michael wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“I… I don’t know for certain. I don’t want you to think ill of someone you care about just because I said they might be a conspirator. I could be wrong.” He sounded so damned concerned about Michael’s _feelings_ , it was weird.

“You were right about Geoff.”

“Yes, but contrary to what you like to say about me, I’m not always right.”

Michael stumbled and Ryan had to take on more of his weight. They took one more turn before he stopped and helped Michael sit down against a wall. “Dude, wha - we gotta keep going!” he complained half-heartedly as Ryan unbuttoned his bulletproof vest.

“We won’t be able to if you pass out from blood loss,” Ryan replied simply as he helped Michael out of the vest and then ripped the sleeve off his already torn shirt so he could wrap his wound.

“Rye - this is my favorite shirt, you dick,” Michael complained, his face an expression of complete seriousness.

Ryan snorted. “Why would you wear your favorite shirt to a job?”

“Uh, because it’s _lucky_ , duh.”

“Well, maybe you should get some lucky underwear. They’re less likely to be ripped off because you were shot,” Ryan mused, shaking his head.

“True. That’s true, but they could be ripped off for other reasons…” Michael waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Ryan ducked his head, coughing suddenly. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Ryan replied. “You’re good for now, but we better get that bullet out soon.” 

He helped Michael back into his vest as Michael asked more solemnly, “Just level with me, Ryan. What are the chances that Geoff is working alone?”

Ryan sighed, helping Michael stand up. “Zero. But that doesn’t mean it’s necessarily someone in the crew, Michael. Geoff has a lot of connections-”

Michael shrugged that statement off. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But how are we supposed to take the money back and split it without knowing if someone else is a fucking traitor or not?”

“Well, I did have an idea to flush them out, but you’re probably not gonna like it…” Ryan looked over at Michael with uncertainty.

He sighed, shaking his head slowly. “What choice have I really got? I could get shot in the head by someone else on my crew if I don’t, so it looks like wildcard Haywood’s plan it is.”

Ryan was grinning from ear to ear. “It could be fun,” he offered and Michael just rolled his eyes in response.


	2. You're Stuck in the Middle

“This?” Michael asked incredulously as Ryan helped him sit down on the cheap motel bed. “This was your brilliant fucking plan?”

“What?” Ryan responded defensively. “It’s a good plan!” He dropped the first aid kit he’d bought at a drug store on the bed and started digging into it while Michael helped himself to the booze that was actually meant to be used for sterilization. 

“Let’s be clear here, because obviously you have never been the one in charge of prep. The purpose of the con is that you get the reward, don’t go to prison, and _live_. All three, not two out of three, not one out of three, _all fucking three_.” Michael hissed in pain as he shucked off his vest again and the shirt after, feeling weirdly vulnerable sitting there half naked in front of Ryan even though it wasn’t the first time ever.

Ryan eyed him for a moment before looking back to what he was doing. “That’s for your wound,” he said simply.

“You mean for my funeral? Ryan, they’re gonna kill us. You know that, right? Geoff is gonna go back there, with a gunshot in the fucking leg and call _us_ the fucking traitors and then they will all be coming after _our asses_ because we’ve got the money! This is fucking suicide!” Michael was yelling about it like he yelled about everything, but he hadn’t said he wasn’t going along with it yet. 

Ryan sighed, looking up at him seriously. “You can go anytime you want. I’m not going to stop you, Michael. I can take the money and since you’re already wounded you can say that I shot you and took you hostage whenever you and Geoff wouldn’t give it to me. Geoff isn’t going to contradict you in front of the others, but… you have to be careful, Michael. Don’t let them get the jump on you because Geoff _will_ kill you-”

“Hang on. I’m not doing that, are you fucking stupid?” Michael looked at Ryan like he’d lost his damn mind.

Now Ryan was sputtering and confused. “But you just said-”

“Yeah, I know what I _said_ , dumbass. You think that after Geoff tried to shoot me I’m gonna go play nice with him and let him get away with this shit only to give him another chance to off me and let everyone else think that _you’re_ to blame for this shit when you saved my ass? Fuck that.” 

Michael got up and got a washrag from the bathroom and sat back on the bed, nodding over at Ryan. “Just get the fucking bullet out, will ya?”

Ryan nodded dumbly, blinking a few times as he looked at Michael’s face. Michael handed him the bottle of alcohol after taking another swig and that seemed to pull him out of his stupor. “Might be easiest if you lie back.”

The younger man complied, leaning back slowly with only a grimace as he straightened one arm and used the other to wad up the washcloth and latch down on it between his teeth before nodding at Ryan to continue.

It didn’t hurt as bad as he would’ve expected, though he did groan a lot and clench his teeth hard enough that he thought they would’ve shattered if it hadn’t been for the barrier between them. Ryan was careful but quick and soon enough he’d fetched the bullet out of Michael’s shoulder. “You alright?”

“Moka,” Michael replied before he’d taken the rag from his mouth. He spit it out and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Alright, let me get you stitched up.” They were silent for the most part while Ryan stitched Michael’s wound, though he could feel Ryan’s eyes rake over his face and chest every now and again and it was making his neck flush for some reason. He really wanted to put a shirt on now. “Done,” Ryan said finally, cleaning up the mess from the bed and depositing it in the bathroom.

“Thanks, man.” Michael tugged a wifebeater over his head and at least felt slightly less naked in the dingy room. He pushed himself back against the headboard, drinking some more of the alcohol while he waited for Ryan to come back out of the bathroom.

When he did reemerge, he was clean-faced, his hair loose from its usual ponytail and he’d ditched his own vest and jacket for a plain white t-shirt. Michael eyed him for a few seconds before nodding. “How’d you know to come save my ass anyway?” 

“Kind of figured something wasn’t right when your comm went dead. Everyone said not to worry about it, then I heard someone asking where Geoff was and I knew if I didn’t get there soon you’d get your ass shot.” Ryan smirked a little. “Guess you still managed that.”

Michael snorted and gave him the finger. “Yeah no thanks to you, asshole.” Ryan sat down on the bed next to Michael and he offered him the bottle but Ryan declined. “So while the ‘flush them out’ idea is great and all, with Geoff still in the picture lying to them, how exactly is this supposed to work in our favor? They’re just going to believe we ran off with the money. It’s more believable since I’m the one that recruited you anyway - it’s not like anything is stacked in our favor.”

“True, but there’s an easy way to tell your friends from your enemies,” Ryan said, his head leaning back on the headboard. “The ones that hesitate before they shoot you are your friends, the ones that don’t, aren’t.”

“Shit,” Michael said quietly, blowing out air from his mouth and taking a long drink. “I mean... fucking ‘enemies’, really?”

“I’m sorry. I know that you were close to Geoff.”

“This is such bullshit. How can you spend so much time, so much effort on a group of people and just say ‘fuck it’ in the end? I don’t understand how anyone’s mind can work like that.” It really was beginning to bother Michael that Geoff had turned on them so easily after they’d worked together for so long. He’d thought they were friends. He looked up to Geoff and loved him. How could he do this to him… to any of them?

“I uh… I know what it’s like. To have someone betray you like that. The last group I was with - well I used to be a lot like you. I trusted easily and eventually, I got burned. My best friend shot me in the back - literally - and left me for dead while he ran off with my take and ever since I’ve just been…” Ryan trailed off, surprised he’d even said that much.

“Jaded? Makes sense, I guess. S’how I feel. It fucking hurts though, man. He was like a brother to me and now…” Michael laughed harshly, shaking his head and finishing off the bottle. “Shit, what are we doing? Am I having an honest fucking conversation with Ryan Haywood?” He looked over and smirked.

“Miracles can happen,” Ryan laughed.

“Alright well, not that your suicidal plan isn’t enticing, but I think I’ve got some ideas of my own that might help tip the scales more in our favor,” Michael sat up straighter, his eyes bright. This was going to be hard, but hopefully they could flush out the rats from the crew and get everything settled sooner rather than later. Preferably without his body being put into the ground.

“I’m all ears…”

 

“I - I don’t believe it. There’s just no way that Michael could…” 

“Gavin, you don’t see him here, do you?” Lindsay scoffed.

“Yeah, but there has to be a _reason_. He’s always got a reason...” Gavin squeaked quietly, looking completely lost. Ray walked over and put his arm around Gavin’s shoulder. He felt bad for the Brit; without Michael, Gavin didn’t seem to know who to turn to, what to do with himself.

“We’ll figure out what’s going on, Vav, don’t worry, man,” Ray tried to assure him.

Geoff tried to be as imposing as he could manage while walking on crutches as he came into the room. “There’s nothing to figure out. The assholes took the money for themselves and _shot_ me.”

Jack looked thoughtful. “Yeah, but if they really wanted you out of the way, they could’ve just killed you, Geoff,” she said skeptically.

That was the bit of hope that Gavin needed. “Yeah! Geoff, if they wanted the money so bad, why didn’t they just kill you when you caught them?”

“How the hell should I know? Michael’s been with me since the beginning, maybe it wasn’t as easy as he thought to put one between my eyes! Thanks for wanting me dead, you fuckfaces!”

“We don’t, it’s just - it does seem weird,” Matt added.

“How about we stop talking about how weird it looks and start tracking the assholes?” Geoff snapped.

“If they were interested in keeping the money for themselves, they probably are going to want to unload it as soon as possible,” Jack agreed. “Ray, do you want to start looking for cash uploads? That could help us find them quicker.”

Gavin mumbled, “Or we could just _call him_...”

Ray took Gavin by the shoulders and started leading him from the room. “I’ll get on it, guys. I’ll let you know what I find, Geoff.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Geoff waved him off, already pouring himself a hefty glass of whiskey.

 

“Anything?”

“Not since the last five minutes that you asked, Gavin,” Ray sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

“I’m gonna call him,” Gavin announced, still pacing around the room behind Ray.

“He probably isn’t going to answer…” Ray muttered, but it was useless. Gavin had been non-stop since Geoff told them about Michael and Ryan and there was no swaying him. He hoped they found something out soon.

“God _dammit_ , Gavin, can’t you take a hint? Stop fucking calling me!” Michael screamed as way of answering his phone.

“Michael!” Gavin exclaimed in utter elation and relief, bouncing up and down around Ray who looked just as surprised as Gavin that Michael had actually picked up. “Why wouldn’t you answer when I called?”

“Why do you fucking think? Shit’s a little fucked up right now, dude,” Michael replied, sighing, his earlier annoyance waning some.

“Michael,” Gavin said seriously, still staring at Ray. “You guys didn’t really steal the money, did you?”

“What do _you_ think?”

“I don’t think you would do that, Michael, but I don’t know about Ryan…”

“Look, Gavin,” Michael’s voice went softer, like he was speaking to a child, “you just need to promise me that you will be careful, okay? Things might get worse before they get better and I don’t want you caught in the middle. Make sure you and Ray stick together, alright?”

“What? What does that mean? What are you gonna do? Michael, are you okay? Ryan hasn’t forced you to do anything, has he?” Gavin frowned at Ray.

“I’m fine, boi. Just be careful, both of you. I’ll see you later. Don’t call me anymore, Geoff might get pissed.” Michael hung up on him and Gavin sat staring at his phone numbly.

“Well?” Ray asked. “What’d he say?”

“He said to be careful and that things might get worse… that we should stick together. What do you think he means?” 

“Uhh…” Ray stuttered, looking at his computer screen. “I think he meant… _this_. Gavin, something isn’t right.”

“What do you mean?” Gavin crowded into Ray’s space to look at the monitor with him.

“They’ve made a bunch of deposits, but they are totally random. At least, I thought they were random at first, but when I looked closer… there’s a message. He was leaving me a message.”

“Well what’s the message?” Gavin squawked.

“Geoff,” Ray responded simply.

 

Michael groaned and threw an empty plastic bottle at Ryan’s head, earning a grunt from the other man. “C’mon, dude, I am so fucking tired of being cooped up in this room with you.”

“Oh yeah, it’s been just an absolute pleasure from where I’m sitting,” Ryan mocked, tossing an empty bag of chips back toward Michael that curved in the air and landed at his own feet.

“What? I am a _delight_ to spend time with, I’ll have you know!”

“Of course! The way you leave all your shit lying around and never throw anything away is so charming, how could _anyone_ resist?” Ryan eyed the completely trashed room with disdain.

“Firstly, we’re hiding out, it’s not like this place is my home that I gotta take care of. Secondly, this is payback for you eating the rest of my cheetos like a fuckin’ _monster_. I mean, who does that?” Michael was genuinely offended and had brought it up at least five times in the last two days.

“Oh my god, it wasn’t that big of a deal! There were only like two left!”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Ryan! You don’t steal another man’s cheetos! It’s sacrilege!” 

“Michael,” Ryan said, suddenly serious, “You’re right. It’s been too long. We need to get out of here before I end up slitting your throat. I don’t want to, but you’re driving me to it. Let’s go.” Ryan stood up and tossed Michael his jacket, already pulling on his own.

Michael rolled off the bed, looking confused. “Wait, what? Like right now? Are you serious?”

“No time like the present,” Ryan responded cryptically and Michael just gawped at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was sincerely pissed off right now or just ready to get things moving. He wasn’t even sure if he should try and clarify or just leave it. Fuck, Ryan was terrifying sometimes. Or all the time. “Heard anything else from Ray or Gavin?”

“No, not since I picked up the last time Gavin called a few days ago. I guess they are laying low now. I hope they figured it out. Fuck, I hope they figured it out but didn’t get caught. Shit. You don’t think it was too risky, do you?” Michael was picking up his stuff as they got ready to vacate the motel room.

“I’ve never seen Geoff double-check Ray’s work. I don’t know why he would now unless Ray was acting too shifty.”

“Yeah, Ray wouldn’t be the problem on that front,” Michael noted, knowing full well that Gavin was terrible at keeping secrets. Geoff could probably smell it on him like a stink that needed to be washed off. Fuck, maybe his idea wasn’t as good as he’d thought. Keeping them in the dark might’ve kept them safer.

“They’ll be okay, Michael. They’ve learned a lot from you, believe it or not.” Ryan offered him a small smile as they left the motel room and Michael pondered that statement all the way to the safehouse. Had he really taught anyone anything? And who was he to be teaching people things, anyway? 

They went to one of Ray’s safehouses because theirs would already be watched (and ransacked probably). The point was to be found, but not ambushed. Plus Ray had his own tech on all his houses and he’d know instantly when Michael put his code in who was there. They were banking on that. If Ray and Gavin could manage to get to the house on their own and allow Michael and Ryan some time to get them caught up, maybe they’d have enough numbers to make this a fair fight. With Gavin and Ray on their side, it was just a matter of getting the rest of the crew to understand - and also figuring out who might still be on Geoff’s side.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Ryan asked as they got the house ready, waiting on the arrival of the others.

“Yeah. It’ll work. It has to work.” He nodded to reaffirm himself and then Ray and Gavin came flying through the door only a few moments later. Michael and Ryan had their guns on them in an instant.

“Michael?” came Gavin’s confused voice.

“Go ahead and give us your guns, guys, and let’s keep this civil,” Michael said sternly, keeping his mouth tight.

“What the _fuck_ , Michael? We came here to help you, what’re you doing?” Ray spat.

“Things are pretty shitty for us right now, if you hadn’t noticed, and we aren’t taking any chances. So - guns, please.” Michael felt bad for being so harsh, but desperate times and all that shit.

Gavin nudged Ray and told him to they should just do it, so they dropped their guns on the table and sat on the sofa while Ryan tied their hands behind their backs.

“ _Michael_ , why?” Gavin pleaded.

“Because I don’t know why you’re here or who’s with you and I don’t want to be shot again, Gav.”

Ray grunted. “We came so you could tell us what the fuck happened, Michael. If I’d known you were losing your shit though, maybe I wouldn’t’ve.”

“Holy _shit_!” The front and back doors flew open in unison, Geoff’s whistle of surprise ringing out as guns were pointed at them from every angle.

“ _Jesus_ , Michael, what are you _doing_?” Jack asked, looking at Ray and Gavin tied up on the sofa.

“See! I told you we better follow them!” Lindsay piped up, looking completely shocked at the scene. “If we hadn’t, who knows what could’ve happened to them with these two!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Michael screamed, bringing the attention back to him. “We only tied them up because I didn’t know if Geoff had them commed or wired or something.”

“Why the hell would I do that?” Geoff asked, trying to look confused and doing a great job of it. Michael wondered if he was an actor or something in high school.

“Because you fucking tried to _kill me_!” Michael raged. He looked toward Jack, Matt, and Jeremy. “When I got the money, Geoff stopped me, broke my comm and pulled his gun on me. He said if I didn’t give him the money that he’d kill me. I should’ve just given it to him, but I didn’t want to screw you guys over so I told him no and he tried to fucking shoot me in the head, okay? Ryan showed up and pushed him and it hit me in the shoulder instead. See?” He showed them his bullet wound.

“Then why was Geoff shot in the leg?” Jeremy asked skeptically.

“Because we didn’t want him to follow us and fucking kill us anyway!” Michael waved his hands around wildly, gun included. A few people startled at the motion, but no one dropped their guns. “We took the money so that he didn’t get his damn hands on it!”

“That’s a great story, Michael,” Geoff drawled. “I mean, I almost believe it myself, but if that were true, then why would you invest the money at all? Why not just keep it safe until you were able to spin this grand tale to the crew and convince them of your innocence?”

Ray looked up at Michael then. “Yeah, Michael, why’d you guys deposit the money if you weren’t trying to keep it for yourselves?” 

Michael held Ray’s gaze and the look was so stern, so perfectly neutral, Michael honestly couldn’t tell what Ray was thinking. “I guess I just put my faith in the wrong people,” Michael said finally, never taking his eyes off Ray.

“Ch’yeah! I mean, Ryan? Dude’s a fucking lunatic,” Kerry shook his head. “He’s totally fucked up.”

“Yeah, we know that, Kerry,” Matt said quietly.

“No, I mean like ‘sex dungeon in the basement’ fucked up. He hasn’t said a single fucking thing this whole time!”

Gavin finally spoke up. “Can we just get this over with? I don’t want to be here anymore.” He sounded small and broken and it made Michael’s heart wrench painfully to hear him so defeated.

“Well, Michael? Are you going to give up peacefully?” Geoff asked. “Lindsay, untie these two for fuck’s sake.”

Michael backed up next to Ryan, gun pointed at Geoff specifically. “Sorry, Geoff. I’m not going down without a fight and I’m not letting you fuck my friends over either.” He looked over at Jack when he said that, wondering where she stood in all this.

“The only person who fucked everyone over around here is _you_ , Mikey. No one’s on your side except Ryan and let’s be honest, he probably just wants the fight for the fun of it. The guy’s got screws loose.” Geoff laughed and it sounded cold, not his normal boisterous laugh Michael had always enjoyed.

Lindsay got Gavin and Ray untied and they stood across the room from Michael and Ryan, guns in hand, holding them out in front of them like all the others. “You’re outnumbered. You really want to take these odds? We don’t want to kill you, but we will if you make us.” Geoff sounded certain that everyone was on the same page, but Michael was still banking on that not being the case. 

“Then I guess this will be over quickly, won’t it?” Ryan spoke for the first time and everyone looked toward him just before the room fell into utter chaos.


	3. Rise to the Top Now

Michael felt like he was watching the scene unfold around him in slow motion. He knew that Geoff was going to go for him and Ryan first because if he stood any chance of convincing the others that he was right, he had to eliminate them as opposition.

He just didn’t really expect it to be so fucking _brutal_. Bullets were flying everywhere, shattering windows and destroying stereo equipment. People were ducking behind sofas and tables, using cheap ass art off the wall for shields. It was a war zone. 

Michael couldn't keep straight who was firing at who and he could no longer find Ray or Gavin, crouched behind a shitty recliner as he was with Ryan squashed in next to him. 

"What do you think?" Michael asked him uncertainly.

"I think someone is going to get shot if this doesn't end soon," Ryan replied flatly. 

"That's what I'm afrai-" Michael yelped as an arm encircled his throat from behind. Ryan was up in an instant but Geoff tutted at him, gun pointing at Michael's head. 

"I wouldn't do that if you want your little partner here to stay alive," Geoff said callously. 

"Wow, Geoff, way to be a prick," Michael managed to spit out while his windpipe was being crushed. Geoff tightened his hold, only making it harder for Michael to breathe. 

"I don't wanna hear it, Mikey. You've said enough today. The placating is over. Give us the damn money so no one gets hurt. I know you don't want that to happen."

"No, he doesn't, but maybe _we_ do," Ray said, appearing from seemingly nowhere, his gun now pressed to the back of Geoff's neck. "You tried to take all our money and then frame Michael and Ryan for it when they wanted to stop you. Fuck you, Geoff. Now who was helping you? We want the rats out of this crew pronto."

To Ray's disquiet, he felt a cold barrel press against the side of his neck. "That'd be me," Lindsay said coldly. "Now put the gun down, Ray. You're still outnumbered; you don't stand a chance."

Ryan was standing stock-still in front of Michael, taking in the scene in front of him. Michael searched his face, looking for whatever stupid ideas might be forming behind those blue eyes, but it was useless. He knew that Ryan would do whatever the hell Ryan wanted and it didn’t matter what Michael said otherwise. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. “Ryan, _don’t_ -” Michael wheezed, gasping for air under the pressure of Geoff’s arm. His knuckles were white as they gripped at the tattooed arm of his former colleague and it only seemed to spurn the determination in Ryan’s eyes. Fuck. This wasn’t going to end well.

“Maybe _you’re_ outnumbered,” Gavin said quietly, his gun aimed at Lindsay now. His hands were shaking terribly, but he steadied himself as well as he could manage, face determined. “We’re with Michael.”

Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Of course _you_ are. You’re so far up Michael’s ass I’m surprised you know what anything else even looks like.”

“Fuck off, Lindsay,” Ray snarled. “Leave him alone. Why don’t you assholes just get the fuck out of my house and we’ll call it a day? I’ll use your take as payment for all the damages and we don’t ever have to see your fucking faces again. Deal?”

“No fucking deal,” Geoff roared. “How dumb do you think we are, Ray? Like you’re just going to look the other way, forget the whole damn thing? You said yourself you want us dead.”

“After all the shit you’ve pulled? Damn right I do,” Ray agreed, tightening his grip on his gun and pressing it harder into Geoff’s skin.

“No,” Michael groaned, shaking his head. He felt like he was going to pass out soon, but he couldn’t do that before he made it clear that killing each other wasn’t the damn answer to their problems.

“Michael never wanted you dead, Geoff. He still doesn’t,” Ryan responded for him and Michael looked at the other man gratefully even as he noticed the other inching closer.

“I’m supposed to take _your_ word for it? You’re the craziest motherfucker here, Ryan! You’d slaughter us all and you think I’m going to stand down because you say Michael doesn’t want bloodshed? _Fuck_ that.” Geoff tried to back up but Ray’s gun barrel dug into his spinal column. 

“I’m not going to let you hurt him, Geoff,” Ryan said slowly, his voice deep and dark, the threat evident in his stare.

“Get any closer and I’ll shoot both of you mother fuckers,” Geoff replied, looking terrified in the face of Ryan’s wrath.

“If you do, I’ll blow you away,” Ray hissed behind him.

“ _Stop it!_ ” Michael groaned, tugging until Geoff’s hold loosened and he could gulp in some air and speak. “Stop fucking doing this, you dicks, this is bullshit! Do you _hear_ yourselves? We’ve been together for years and you turn on each other like this? Fucking _stop_.”

“We won’t make it out of here alive, Michael,” Lindsay said quickly. “It’s kill or be killed at this point. Your nobility is honorable and all, but we’re too far past that now. It was always an unspoken rule, you know that. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

“Ryan…” Michael pleaded, not even sure what he was asking for, but Ryan seemed to understand. He lunged forward at Geoff, whose gun went off instinctively, but Ryan tackled both him and Michael to the ground, knocking Ray back and the others as well. Jack was there with Matt to help subdue Lindsay in the confusion and Michael and Ryan managed to get the gun from Geoff and restrain him.

As they were tying Geoff and Lindsay up, Geoff kept screaming, “You better fucking kill me, Michael! I swear if you don’t kill me I will fucking come after you, you asshole, I will fucking find you!”

But Ryan collapsed on the floor Michael stopped hearing him. “Fuck!” He was holding his gut as blood gushed out of it and Michael’s mind went foggy as he went on auto-pilot, ripping off his own shirt and pressing it into the wound. “We gotta get him to the hospital!” 

“Hey,” Ryan said quietly, a smile on his face as he looked up at Michael who was cradling Ryan’s head in his lap. “Told you somebody would get shot…” It was the last thing he said before he passed out.

 

“And what’re we gonna do about _them_?” Michael asked quietly, pacing around the hospital room. 

Ryan’s eyes opened slowly, taking in the faint light of the room. The first thing he saw was Michael at the foot of his bed, then Ray sitting in an uncomfortable looking recliner not far away.

“Well, I guess I have some ideas if you’re so hell-bent on _not_ killing them. Which I still think we should, by the way. Just sayin’.” Ray shrugged nonchalantly, like murdering their former crew members was nothing new.

“Not plotting murder without me, are you?” Ryan croaked, trying to push himself up in the bed.

“Whoa, dude, calm down there,” Michael said, at his side instantly and pushing him back against the bed. “Your fucking guts were just outside your body so I think you could do with a little rest, dipshit.”

“Was it that bad?” Ryan asked sheepishly.

“It was touch and go for a bit,” Ray admitted.

“Unsurprisingly, you’re a stubborn asshole and refused to fucking die,” Michael tried to joke, though he mostly just looked relieved as his eyes raked over Ryan’s body.

Ryan coughed a small laugh. “It’s been said about me before.”

“Yeah well, we have other problems to deal with. Mainly the traitors who sincerely want Michael’s head on a platter.”

Michael grunted, brushing his hand through his hair. “I don’t understand why he hates me so much. I never - why does he want me dead? I thought we were… and now he just wants to fucking - what did I _do_?”

“Honestly?” Ryan asked, though he didn’t wait for a response. “You got too good.”

“Too good at _what_?”

“At this. All of it. And you gained the respect of the crew. I think Geoff thought the winds were going to blow in your direction and he wanted to get out before it happened. Since it didn’t really work out that way, well…” Ryan shrugged at the obvious.

Michael looked over at Ray for any kind of confirmation. “Wha - what are you even talking about? He thought I was gonna try take over or something? I never wanted that job, I was happy where I was!”

“Maybe, but he might be right, Michael,” Ray agreed. “And if Geoff resents you for becoming what you have, then he probably meant what he said.”

“Then what the fuck am I supposed to do? I’m _not_ fucking killing him!” Michael threw his hands in the air.

“Like I said, I know a way we can make sure he can’t kill you and we won’t have to take him out. I’ll go get started.” Ray nodded at the both of them and left the room.

“I can’t believe you brought me to a hospital,” Ryan regarded quietly.

Michael scoffed. “I wasn’t gonna let you _die_ , you fuck.” Michael started to pace around again. “That was pretty fucking dumb, what you did back there.”

“What did I do?” Ryan asked quizzically.

“You fucking know, you prick. You knew Geoff was unhinged, why would you leap at him like that? He could’ve killed you, Ryan.” Michael’s voice was quiet and serious.

“Did you think after all we went through I’d just let him kill _you_?” Ryan asked honestly. “You may not see it, Michael, but you mean a lot to this crew. Losing Geoff is one thing, but _you_? They wouldn’t survive that.”

 

Turned out that Ray’s plan was to frame Lindsay and Geoff for a number of their past heists. Was it really framing if they were involved in them in the first place? Regardless, it was easy as fuck to blame someone for something when their fingers were already in that pie. Plus Ray was pretty damn good at technical forgery. 

Geoff actually seemed impressed with Michael’s solution when the cops came to arrest him. Maybe in 25 years when he was up for parole, he wouldn’t be so gung-ho about slicing Michael’s throat.

Despite there not being any kind of official vote, Michael somehow ended up stepping into Geoff’s vacant role in the crew, regardless of his misgivings. The encouragement from Ray, Gavin, and Ryan helped, sure, but it was the fact that everyone else seemed completely comfortable with it, like it was the most natural thing for their crew. That had cemented his decision to take on the new role.

Granted it wasn’t an easy fucking job. He never knew how much shit Geoff actually dealt with or how much work actually went into planning and prep, but fuck was it a pain in the ass. He might’ve had access to all of Geoff’s contacts, but that didn’t mean shit if they didn’t know Michael well enough to trust him. They had to spend a lot of time doing small time jobs to gain people’s trust without Geoff in the mix, but as the months wore on, Michael began to gain the respect of Geoff’s contacts and even found many of his own.

While it felt like they had to start at the bottom again, no one seemed to mind or even complained. In fact, they all were in high spirits most of the time and even Ryan was beginning to open up more around the crew and spent a lot more time with Michael. It was almost weird how much closer everyone had become after Geoff was gone; like the transgression had made them appreciate each other more than ever.

When Michael finally felt confident enough, he started planning their first official job without Geoff. It was bittersweet in a lot of ways, but it was also nice to be able to get the crew back on its feet. They were all buzzing with excitement and nervous energy as they prepared and Michael knew that things would be bumpy, but he had faith that they could still pull this off as long as nothing unforeseen happened. He’d done his best to plan for every situation, but some things were unpredictable...

 

“Mother _fucker_ ,” Michael hissed, stalking up to Ryan, his body filled to the brim with fury. He shoved hard at Ryan’s shoulders, knocking the man a few steps back. “This was the first fucking job, Ryan, our _first fucking job_ and you couldn’t fucking _wait_ to derail the goddamn plan, could you?”

“Michael,” Ryan said placidly, trying not to stoke the fires further. “Ray was pinned down, I _had_ to-”

“The only thing you _had_ to do was follow the fucking, plan, Ryan. It was straightforward, it was contingent, and it was solid. Ray knew what the fuck he was doing and he didn’t need you to strain other parts of the mission just to help him out,” Michael growled into Ryan’s face.

Still trying to stay calm, Ryan removed his mask and looked at Michael genuinely. “And you would’ve just left him, then?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter what _I_ would do. We aren’t talking about _me_ right now, you asshole.”

Ryan grinned. “No, because you know that if I hadn’t gone, you would have. Maybe you’re just pissed that you didn’t get to be the hero, Michael.”

Michael’s eyes went as wide as saucers; he was ardent, ready to pounce on Ryan and possibly choke the fucking life out of him. His eyes were all rage as he advanced the few inches left between them, saying, “You fucking piece of sh-”

But he didn’t get to finish. Ryan tugged him forward the rest of the distance and crushed their mouths together, causing a surprised gasp to leave Michael’s mouth and push against Ryan’s lips. Gavin squawked behind them and Ray punched him in the arm, but none of that seemed to faze the two who were now fiercely making out like no one else was standing around just watching like complete idiots.

“So…” Jack started, looking at the others. “What are you gonna do with your take, Gavin?”

Gavin was still staring at Michael and Ryan like they’d conjoined heads. “Uh… I was thinking of fixing up... some of my cars.”

Ray laughed. “About fucking time. You’re not very conspicuous on that motorcycle, dude.”

“Hey! It’s patriotic!”

“What have _you_ got to be patriotic about, you’re not even American!” Matt laughed.

“Yeah, I always wondered - how do you get a work visa for being a criminal anyway?” Jeremy asked.

“I’m not a criminal!” Gavin cried, waving his arms around. Everyone laughed. “According to my papers, I’m a teacher.” He grinned stupidly.

Kerry guffawed and Jack was doubled over. “Who the fuck would ever believe something like that?”

“I could teach… something! And anyway, I pay someone off to sign the papers, it’s not a big deal,” Gavin shrugged them off, glancing over to see that Ryan and Michael were still embraced and making out like fucking teenagers at prom.

“Maybe we should… go?” Gavin asked, looking at the others.

Ray looked at Michael and Ryan and shrugged. “Yeah, looks like they might be a while. Let’s go grab a beer. Vav’s buying since he didn’t cover my flank and tried to get me killed.”

“I didn’t!” Gavin screeched as they left the two alone, neither even noticing what had just transpired around them, too wrapped up in releasing months of pent up sexual tension to give a fuck.


End file.
